


A short story about three people

by airandangels



Category: Fringe
Genre: Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 05:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airandangels/pseuds/airandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written right after 'A Short Story About Love' and has nothing, NOTHING to do with continuity. For lesliecrusher!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A short story about three people

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesliecrusher](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lesliecrusher).



Well, now Olivia was happy, so he should be happy for her. It didn’t make him feel any better to tell himself that, but Lincoln hoped it would at least prevent him acting like too much of a whiny asshole. He reminded himself that she didn’t owe him anything but common decency, that she would still make a wonderful friend, that he honestly liked Peter and believed he would be good to her. He still felt miserably disappointed, frustrated, and about fourteen years old, but he was enough of a grown-up to know he could and would ride that part out.

So when they announced their big news, he smiled and congratulated them, and shook Peter’s hand, and gave Olivia kind of an awkward upper-arm pat, and found a good reason to leave shortly after that.

He couldn’t sleep that night, but that was predictable, so after lying in bed uselessly for an hour or so he got up, dressed again and went to the diner. Not _their_ diner. Cut that out, self. He took a book with him, and sat re-reading the same two-page spread again and again without understanding what it said. That first night Olivia had come in, she had frankly looked rough as hell, her skin pale and waxy, her hair all anyhow, but she’d come in and smiled like she looked fine, and the bravery of that, and the fact that she didn’t seem to think it _was_ brave, had just grabbed his heart. 

And she just kept grabbing his heart, from all angles. She was so brave, a lioness. So kind, so smart, and just so _good._ It sounded stupid even to him, but she was kind of his hero. Maybe he was idealising her too much; maybe if he got to live with her he would find out she was really unreasonable in arguments, or she never cleaned up the bathroom, or taped over other people’s shows without saying anything... but it was hard to imagine.

He felt lonely, not just because Peter and Olivia were together now, but because it was really coming home to him: he lived in this weird little Fringe Division world now, that most people couldn’t know about or wouldn’t understand. Who was left for him? Who would understand? There was Astrid, sure, and he’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful she was, like a Disney princess or something, and stupid not to see how bright and sweet and incredibly kind and patient she was, but he’d never felt that way about her. 

Not to mention he realised he was thinking as if Astrid was his to take or leave. What if she was a lesbian? Or only wanted to date black guys? Or just didn’t want a relationship, right now or maybe ever? He realised he didn’t know Astrid all that well, much as he liked and respected her. If she understood how he’d felt about Olivia, it might also be pretty insulting to her to be his second choice. It was no good thinking about it now, anyway; he needed to try to get over this before he looked at anyone else.

The next week was pretty gross. They were investigating the case of a man who had literally jumped out of his skin. There turned out to be a reasonable explanation, at least, by Fringe standards of ‘reasonable,’ but getting to it was hard work, and at one point required him to oversee the complete... exhumation felt like the word, of a septic tank’s contents. When Olivia approached him in the office near the end of the day, all he wanted was to go home and spend about an hour in the shower.

‘Hey. How are you holding up?’

‘Okay. I mean, I can still smell it. I think I’ll be smelling it for a while.’ He wrinkled his nose and shook his head ruefully.

‘If you want to smell something better, you could come over for dinner. I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but Peter’s making spaghetti carbonara, and his recipe’s pretty good.’

Lincoln felt confused. He would have expected them to be in honeymoon mode and not want anyone else around after work. All this week, they had been so in tune, finishing each other’s sentences, smiling at each other over nothing, each lifting the other’s game with suggestions and inspirations. Touching each other, unobtrusively but almost constantly, hands resting together on a tabletop with the pinky fingers brushing. He wished he could stop noticing those details. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.’

‘We wouldn’t ask if we didn’t mean it,’ Olivia assured him. ‘Why don’t you go home, get cleaned up, and come over about seven? Peter’s place, I mean, not mine. We’re still kind of... living in both places.’

‘Well, thank you. Should I bring anything?’

‘Just you would be great.’ She smiled warmly and left him with a ‘See you then!’

Still truly confused, Lincoln went home and showered. When he got out and reached out for his glasses, folded on the tiles by the sink, he fumbled and they skittered away, then fell to the floor with a nasty-sounding snap. When he found them, over by the toilet, one arm was hanging from its hinge at a weird angle, and fiddling with it only seemed to make it looser. He sighed, made a mental note to see if the optician could fix them, and dug out his older pair before getting dressed. Nothing fancy, like Olivia had said; jeans and a striped shirt, with a zip-up sweater. 

_This is stupid,_ he told himself. _Why am I going? Why didn’t I think of a good reason to say no? Why am I subjecting myself to a couple of hours, without being able to get away, in the company of a woman I was half in love with and a man who I at least really like, who are now together and madly in love? Because it would be_ rude _to turn down a dinner invitation? Because I suck at lying? I am pathetic._

When he arrived on their doorstep and knocked, Olivia answered pretty quickly. She had her hair down, loose and shiny and sweetly clean-looking, and she was wearing what looked like one of Peter’s shirts over a grey tank top and jeans of her own. She greeted him with a ‘Hey’ and a hug, which surprised him but made it clear that her hair smelled good too.

‘I’m on Skype with my niece in Chicago,’ she explained. ‘There’s stuff she _has_ to tell me _now._ Why don’t you go through to the kitchen and help Peter? He can always use a good sous-chef.’

‘Uh, okay.’ He went in the direction Olivia indicated, and found Peter dicing bacon.

‘Lincoln, hi.’ Peter looked up and flashed him a smile that he didn’t really know how to read. It was such a tangled situation. Peter knew he had been into Olivia; had actually encouraged him when he thought she was a different woman than the one he’d been in love with. That _was_ what the new glasses had been about, wasn’t it? ‘What happened to your glasses?’ Peter asked, as if he’d read his mind, or more likely, looked at his face.

‘Oh. They’re, uh, they’re out of commission.’ Lincoln squinted, decided the lenses were dirty and took them off to quickly polish them on his shirt-tail. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Why apologise?’

‘Well, it was a pretty generous present. I meant to ask how the hell you knew my prescription.’

‘I did a little snooping,’ Peter admitted with a shrug. ‘I’m a pretty good snoop.’

‘I, ah, I understand you’re an okay cook, too? Spaghetti carbonara?’

‘Which should be farther along than it is. I got sidetracked. Can you help me out? Chop this onion?’

‘Oh, sure.’ He got to work, and once he had something purposeful to do he felt a lot less awkward. He and Peter moved around each other pretty naturally, and he fell into the role of preparing all the raw ingredients while Peter took care of the stovetop work. The only weird moment came when Peter leaned past him to get the bowl of beaten eggs and grated Parmesan, and touched his back. There was nothing so strange about that, he might have done it to steady himself, or to make sure Lincoln wasn’t going to move suddenly and make him spill. Just a hand at the small of his back, no big deal. But he seemed to rest it there for longer than necessary, and as he drew back he gave Lincoln a little smile, and it felt - intimate? His face felt hot, and he had a brief semi which illogically subsided when Olivia came into the kitchen to give her niece’s love to Peter.

Lincoln excused himself to the bathroom and had a long drink of water. _You’re not going to be weird, are you?_ he asked himself. All right. Okay, he was a little attracted to Peter. He knew this about himself; he got crushes on guys, and he’d always chosen not to express them openly because he was just too scared of the reaction he might get. On one hand, rejection, anger and possibly violence; on the other hand, he might get a favourable reception and the thought of following through made him incredibly nervous in all sorts of physical ways. He obviously wasn’t going to say or do anything stupid here, because Peter was Olivia’s, and Olivia was Peter’s, and he knew better. Okay. He would just go out and have dinner with them like a normal, sane person.

Considering how strange he was feeling, dinner went well. The food was delicious, and instead of feeling left out, he somehow felt included in their happiness. He’d thought they would be wrapped up in each other, but they both talked to him as if they really wanted to. Peter told a slightly illegal story about a scam he’d once pulled off in Turkey, making both Lincoln and Olivia laugh and scold him admiringly, if that were possible.

‘But it’s okay, because now I believe in Truth and Justice,’ Peter protested. ‘And I will never do anything sneaky _ever_ again.’

‘That’s right. You’ll just snoop, which is different from sneaking,’ Lincoln said.

‘Clearly it’s different!’

‘I don’t know,’ said Olivia, ‘they both start with a snuh.’ She glanced over at Lincoln, and added, ‘Maybe it’s time to bring up what we talked about.’

‘Okay. Do you want to lead, or shall I?’ Peter replied.

‘I’ll start. Lincoln, we’re really glad you came tonight. There’s something we’d like to talk about.’

Lincoln tried to force a smile, without much success. He’d just been relaxed and enjoying himself, and now he had the feeling they were going to drop some kind of bomb. _Lincoln, we’ve been noticing you staring at us and envying our relationship, and we just want you to know we think you’re really pathetic._

‘This is, um, I don’t really know how to say it.’ Olivia had that nervous half-smile she always got during difficult discussions, which didn’t encourage him any. ‘This is kind of new territory. Um. So! You know that we both really like you, don’t you?’

‘Uh, thank you. I like you too. Both of you.’ Across the table, Lincoln saw Peter pull over a paper napkin and scribble on it, then pass it over to him; it read **Do you like us? Check one: Yes __ No __.** It made him snort inadvertently.

‘Peter, cut it out!’ Olivia said. ‘I’m trying to be serious.’

‘I think you’re being too serious. You’re scaring him. This is supposed to be a nice thing.’

‘Yes, of course it’s a nice thing.’ She turned back to Lincoln. ‘Don’t worry, Lincoln, it’s completely a nice thing.’

‘I was starting to worry you were trying to break some kind of bad news.’

‘No! Definitely not. But it’s kind of a sensitive thing, too, and I wanted to lead up to it. I just want you to know, before I say anything else, and before you decide anything, that we don’t want to put any pressure on you at all. What happens is completely up to you, and if you want things to just go on the way they always have, that’s fine with us. You’re our friend, and you’re a great friend. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few months. You really mean so much to both of us.’

‘I’m... not sure where you’re going with this,’ Lincoln faltered. Another paper napkin nudged at his hand, and he looked down. 

**Do you want to try a threesome? Check one: Yes__ No__.**

‘Uh... what?’

‘I’m sorry, I just don’t think we’re going to get anywhere being subtle,’ Peter said, shrugging and smiling ruefully. 

‘Like a, a _sex_ threesome?’ His whole face felt burning hot; he must be bright red.

‘If you wouldn’t feel comfortable we completely understand,’ Olivia said quickly. ‘We have absolutely no expectations here.’

‘This was her idea, by the way,’ Peter added. 

‘Then you, um, you...’ He couldn’t form a sentence; he thought he might be about to die of flusterment.

‘Oh, I’m on board. I think you’re cute as hell. When _she_ brought it up I was like hooray! We can talk about this! We’ve been talking about it a _lot.’_

‘Seriously?’ Lincoln’s voice was an embarrassing squeak now.

‘Seriously,’ Olivia said. She touched his hand hesitantly, and an electric thrill ran up his arm. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I’m completely blindsided, but I’m okay. You - um - in the kitchen, you were... feeling me out?’

‘A little,’ Peter admitted. ‘Feeling you _up_ would’ve been premature.’

‘Can I, uh, can I have the pen?’

‘Sure.’ Peter tossed it over, looking amused, and Lincoln marked a large, clear check next to **Yes.** They all sat and looked at it; the atmosphere was awkward, but pleased nonetheless.

‘Yay,’said Olivia softly.

‘Do you want to do it right now?’ He pushed his chair back without thinking.

‘He gets down to business, I like that,’ Peter said, smiling. ‘Actually, we thought maybe there should be a cooling-off period so you can think it over.’

‘I really don’t need to,’ Lincoln said earnestly. ‘The only thing I don’t get is that I thought you two had this great eternal universe-spanning love - but you still want _me?’_

‘Wanting you too doesn’t mean we love each other any less,’ Olivia said. ‘Real love doesn’t have to be just two people - I mean, it’s nice if it is, but it’s also fine other ways. God, this is embarrassing. It feels so artificial, and I just keep thinking, how can I get past all this to where I’ll have my two beautiful boys kissing me? Wait. Lincoln - can I?’ She pushed back her chair, and before Lincoln quite understood what she was doing, sat down straddling his lap. His heart thumped, hard, and then she was kissing him and instinct took over. He wrapped his arms around her and just revelled in it, her warm soft lips and her sweet wet tongue, her hands pushing through his hair. At some point he abandoned any attempt at smoothness and just slid his hands down to squeeze her ass, which got him a pleased ‘mmmm’ in his mouth and a scooting motion in his lap, as Olivia hitched her hips forward, and then _oh yes God_ she was rubbing against him. He wasn’t ready for her to pull back when she did, but oh, she looked so beautiful.

‘When do I get a turn?’ Peter asked. He still sounded amused to Lincoln, as if none of this were strange, as if watching his girlfriend straddle another guy and kiss him into an advanced state of erection weren’t awkward at all, just kind of funny and nice.

‘I, um, I don’t really know how this is supposed to work,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve never done... I mean, _do_ we take turns or...’

‘It’s new to me too,’ Olivia said, brushing her hair back behind her ear. ‘Okay. I need to pee, so I’m going to go to the bathroom, and Peter can have his turn, then we’ll all get back together. How does that sound?’

‘Okay...’ He lifted his chin to kiss her again, still amazed that he got to do this at all. 

‘Okay.’ She smiled, and he fell a little bit more in love with the way her nose crinkled. Olivia got up and left the dining room; he could hear her climbing the stairs a moment later. He was alone with Peter, desperately turned on but suddenly acutely shy. Peter got up, came around the table and held out his hand, pulling him gently to his feet when he took it. 

‘Hey,’ he said quietly. That intimate, warm look was back in his eyes. ‘You okay?’

‘Surprisingly.’

‘You look very slightly freaked out. That’s okay too.’ One hand still holding his, and Peter’s other hand moved to his shoulder, just resting there, warm through his shirt.

‘I just... I seriously don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in a threesome. In porn I’ve only ever seen the girl-girl-guy kind. Do we both just focus on Olivia or, you know, am I there for you, too?’

‘Just do whatever comes easiest.’ 

‘I’ve never even kissed a guy,’ Lincoln admitted. It seemed easier to say this to Peter alone than with Olivia in the room. 

‘Well, do you want to kiss me?’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t need to think it over. ‘I mean, I like the idea, I just never tried it.’

‘Come on.’ Just a little smile, with a twinkle in the eyes, challenging him but encouraging him at the same time. Lincoln framed Peter’s face with his hands, feeling stubble prickle his palms, and kissed him softly, feeling a little bit eighth-grade about it. That bristly feeling was strange, but he thought he would get to like it. He wrapped his arms around Peter’s shoulders and pressed closer, and felt hands on his back, and melted into it. Hugging another man like this felt incredible, the pressure and strength of his body, the nudge of his cock stiffening against his thigh. Hands gliding up and down his back, making him shiver, lifting the tail of his shirt and smoothing up again over bare skin. He grunted slightly and nipped at Peter’s lower lip, getting a more aggressive kiss in return. 

‘I think we should head upstairs before I get carried away and try to ravish you on the table,’ Peter murmured.

‘You’re not going to try and carry me up there, are you?’

‘Ah... no. Let’s walk it. But I’ll hold your hand.’

Lincoln’s heart was pounding as they climbed the stairs, and he knew his hand was sweating against Peter’s. The bedroom was shadowy, a little light coming from under the adjoining bathroom door; he could hear Olivia moving around in there.

‘We’re just going to get started,’ Peter said, raising his voice slightly. 

‘I’ll be there in just a sec,’ Olivia called back.

‘Is it bad threesome manners to start without her? Like a party foul?’ Lincoln asked. He could feel that he was going to get a little nervous-stupid, if not actually giggly.

‘Shh.’ Peter kissed him and backed him onto the bed, his legs folding as the edge of the mattress pressed into their backs.

‘Well, I wanna be _polite...’_ _First time on a bed with a guy on top of me. Oh my God. Even without Olivia this would be worth doing._ He gave up on his manners and concentrated on kissing Peter and not-very-subtly rubbing his cock on him. Peter was stroking his chest, his stomach, sliding his shirt up under his arms and pinching his nipples. They were both breathing hard now, and the sound of it, the way Peter’s chest moved against his and the warm gust of his breath on Lincoln’s face and neck, was exciting him to a ridiculous degree.

The bathroom door clicked open, and Peter lifted off him. ‘Here’s our girl,’ he said, rolling onto his side and half sitting up. Lincoln squinted as his eyes got used to the light; Olivia was golden-edged as she came through the doorway. She was still wearing Peter’s shirt, hanging open, but the tank top was gone, and her pants. He could see the inner curve of her breast as she lifted her hand to stroke back her hair. She was wearing a truly astonishing pair of boots, caramel-coloured leather that laced up over the knees, and a pair of dark briefs... no, not exactly, more of a harness, supporting a long, slim dark purple dildo.

‘Oh my God,’ he said, and he could see a flicker of uncertainty on her face. ‘No, you look so great, come here!’ He rolled over awkwardly, wishing he could find the right moment to take his jeans off, and knelt at the end of the bed, where she came to meet him, opening her arms and bending her head to kiss him. ‘Oh God, Olivia, you are the most beautiful - sexiest - amazing -’ He wasn’t making much sense in between kisses, but it didn’t matter. He laid a trail of kisses down her neck, between her breasts, over her stomach, and hunched down to take the head of the dildo in his mouth, sucking eagerly. She laughed, though kindly, and stroked his hair.

‘You really like that?’

‘Mm!’

‘Peter’s is more fun, though.’

‘I just... I wanted to show you...’ He drew back, trying to catch his breath.

‘Thank you.’ Now Olivia was backing him up, back up the bed and up against Peter, and he was surrounded by them, embraced and entangled, rolling together and he only knew which of them he was kissing at any point because Peter felt rougher. By the same logic, the hands on his chest now must be Olivia’s, the ones unbuttoning and yanking down his jeans must be Peter’s, and he had managed to get one of his hands inside the harness thing to stroke between Olivia’s legs, soft furry hair and a deep wet cleft for his fingers.

‘Lincoln? Sweetie, are you listening?’

‘Mm?’ He lifted his face from her breasts, feeling dizzy.

‘I want to see the two of you suck each other. Okay?’

‘I love how horny he is,’ Peter was saying behind him, hands inside his boxers and squeezing his ass. ‘I really don’t think he heard you the first time.’

‘I heard,’ Lincoln protested, sitting up. ‘I was busy.’

‘Clothes off, Peter,’ Olivia said, smiling. ‘You don’t get to strip poor Lincoln off and keep your dignity.’

‘Poor Lincoln? Lincoln can’t get the smile off his face.’ Peter pulled his sweater and shirt off over his head together and wriggled out of his pants, kicking his shoes off with them. He was wearing grey boxer briefs, and the soft cotton outlined and hugged his cock, slanted up against his belly with a dark patch soaked through at the tip. Lincoln’s own cock twitched hard at the sight, and he struggled out of his last bits of clothing. Peter hooked his thumbs into the waist of his underwear, ready to pull it down.

‘Don’t, not yet,’ Lincoln said. He nestled down between Peter’s thighs and ran his tongue up the length of his cock, closing his mouth over the wet patch to suck, his mouth filling with the salty taste of precum. He vaguely heard Peter saying ‘Repressed guys just giving themselves permission to love cock are so freaking hot’ and Olivia shushing, then kissing him.

He could feel Peter’s cock thickening and lifting in his mouth, straining against the thin fabric, and he thought he was brave enough now to look at it and taste it directly. He held the waistband and pulled it down from Peter’s hips, let his cock swing free and stand up at a jaunty angle, cropping out of its nest of thick brown hair, thick and red-headed. He heard Peter groan in delight as he sealed his lips to the tip and sucked, the salty taste sharper and stronger now, the spongy texture of the head yielding to his tongue as he swirled it around. Without any experience from this end, he could only try to do what he knew felt good to him, gripping the shaft with one hand to pump up and down, cupping Peter’s hot, plump balls with the other. 

‘Jesus Christ,’ Peter said, lifting up his hips, nudging his cock deeper into Lincoln’s mouth.

‘Good?’ Olivia asked him. She lay beside him, her arm round his waist, his hand inside the harness, gently rocking herself against his fingers.

_‘So_ good.’ He bent his head to kiss her breast.

‘Don’t be lazy, sweetie. Turn round and do the same for him.’

‘Lincoln, don’t choke, I’m moving.’ It was awkward, but Peter managed to swivel himself down and around, getting his face down to Lincoln’s cock, stiff and violet-pink, twitching violently in his mouth as he sucked it in. He had it in his mouth only a few moments before Lincoln came, whimpering, his hips bucking and trembling before he subsided with a long sweet moan. Peter’s cock slipped from his lips as he lay with his head pillowed on his inner thigh, gasping. He felt Olivia stroking his hair, and opened his eyes to see her smiling down at him fondly. A huge sense of wellbeing rolled through him like a warm wave.

She curled round and kissed him, still stroking, smoothing his hair back from his forehead and running her nails lightly over his scalp. ‘Let’s help Peter together,’ she murmured against his lips. ‘I think that’d be a real treat for him.’

‘Mm...’ Lincoln followed her lead, the two of them licking up and down the shaft of Peter’s cock, lingering at the tip and lathering it with their tongues, a kiss between the two of them with him in the middle. His feeling of _pride_ at making Peter come quite profusely almost made him laugh. And there was something so _nice_ and _cosy_ about kissing Olivia afterwards and wiping a streak of cum off her cheek with a corner of the bedsheets, then curling up together with her and Peter.

‘Um... do you just wear this because it makes you feel sexy, or...’ He was touching the dildo again, the first one he’d personally handled and an object of some curiosity for him.

‘Nope,’ Peter said, leaning over his shoulder and kissing his neck. ‘It’s definitely going into me tonight, and into you too if you want it.’

‘But it does make me feel sexy,’ Olivia added, and kissed his forehead. 

‘Okay, there’s a gap between the straps here, you could still have sex while you wear it.’ He was exploring between her thighs with his fingers.

‘Right. So now you’re here, I could be inside Peter while you’re inside me. What do you think?’

‘Sounds good. I was starting to think you didn’t want any for yourself.’ He slid his fingertip over her clitoris and she sighed appreciatively.

‘Olivia likes to spend a nice long time getting revved up first,’ Peter explained. ‘What are you doing there?’

‘Trying to rev her, I guess. Is that good, Olivia?’

‘Mmm.’ She flexed her hips against his stroking fingers and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. Lincoln felt Peter clambering over them to get on Olivia’s other side, then sweeping aside her hair to kiss the nape of her neck.

‘See?’ Peter murmured. _‘Now_ you have your two beautiful boys kissing you. Worth waiting?’

‘Yess...’ Olivia closed her eyes, gently arching her back and tipping up her chin, guiding Lincoln down to kiss her throat. ‘I want... oh... I want...’

‘Everything?’ Peter suggested. He slipped one hand under her arm to massage her breast, nuzzling into the side of her neck. ‘Would everything be nice?’

‘Mm... maybe a little bit.’ She nudged Lincoln’s head down to her breasts, sighing contentedly as he drew a nipple into his mouth. ‘Oh... oh, Lincoln, just... just go back a bit, where you just were... yes! Yes, rub there, _oh...’_ She lifted her hips, gasping, and he felt a little wet gush over his fingers.

‘Good?’

‘There there there there!’ Her eyes widened and her whole face blossomed into joy. ‘Oh! _Oh!’_ She slumped back into Peter’s arms, panting, glowing. ‘Oh God... oh, that was... ahhh...’

‘Lincoln’s that good?’ Peter asked, smiling fondly at her.

‘It’s not just... it’s having you two together, it’s you holding me too...’ She sighed blissfully. ‘This is exactly what I wanted. My boys.’ Her hand still rested on Lincoln’s head, and her fingers curled in his hair.

‘I’m thirsty,’ Peter said, rolling her into Lincoln’s arms and sitting up. ‘Anyone else? Lincoln, by the way, if there’s anything you want, just ask, or help yourself. We want you to be at home here.’

‘I’m a little thirsty,’ Olivia murmured, nestling up against Lincoln and rubbing her cheek on his shoulder. 

‘Yeah, but if I give _you_ anything to drink you’ll be peeing five minutes later.’

‘Shut uuuup. I didn’t choose my bladder.’ She kissed Lincoln’s collarbone.

‘You can pee just as much as you need to, Olivia,’ he said. He would have given her anything she wanted just then; a bathroom break was the least he could offer.

‘You say that now,’ Peter said, rolling out of bed, ‘but you wait till you see how many times she gets up in the night.’ He gave Lincoln a friendly pat on the backside and padded off out of the room.

‘Sfunny,’ Lincoln mused, ‘I’ve never noticed you peeing that much.’

‘He exaggerates,’ Olivia said. Her voice was a low, contented purr, and it struck Lincoln that it was just a slightly higher version of the warm rumble in the lower registers of Peter’s voice. ‘And you know, I’m discreet. I don’t say “I gotta go pee” _every time._ Unless I’m really, really comfortable.’

‘Like now?’ He wound a strand of her hair around his finger.

‘Like now.’

‘That’s what’s so weird about this... that it doesn’t feel weird...’ He paused to consider. ‘Actually, it’s a little bit weird that you have boots on in bed.’

‘But those are my sexy strumpet boots, and you like them.’

‘I do like them. I like them a lot.’

‘And they’ve never been worn outdoors, so they’re very clean.’

‘So...’ He slipped his hand around the dildo again, still curious. ‘Whose idea was this?’

‘Umm... it was kind of a combination. I had my fingers in Peter’s butt, and I asked him if he’d like something bigger, and he said, pardon the language, he’d like me to fuck him. We tried a few different things, and this is our favourite.’

‘You’ve done a lot in a week.’

‘Oh, that wasn’t this week. I mean, remember, we were together before.’

‘You have the most confusing relationship.’

‘Mm... well, it works. You want to try it?’ Gentle, teasing, coaxing smile.

‘Like nothing else.’

(possibly to be continued)


End file.
